


Your Majesty

by exyking



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Bottom Damen (Captive Prince), Bottomianos, Dirty Talk, King Riding, M/M, Mild D/s, Riding, Throne Sex, an abundance of bottom damen, and an aggressively Top Laurent, honestly, like very mild, mild exhibitionism, top laurent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 18:55:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14338896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exyking/pseuds/exyking
Summary: "I want to fuck you," Laurent said.Damen's breath hitched. "Laurent--""Your majesty," Laurent corrected.





	Your Majesty

**Author's Note:**

> So storytime in the discord is a thing, and this is the product of that thing. I blame Mels for the suggestion, and Elle (l_cloudy/liesmyth) for enabling it and then demanding I make it filthier.
> 
> Enjoy this mess.

It had been a long day, a trying day, the petitions of the common folk seemingly never ending, and never one easier than the last. Laurent had handled it well, with the same stoic apathy he handled everything, his expression betraying no sign of weariness or strain.

Damen could not say the same.

He itched to go to the training grounds, when the last of their council had finally left the hall, to pick up a sword and and relieve some of this tension. Planning to do exactly that, he stood, turning to leave.

"Damen," he heard behind him. "Where are you going?"

Damen turned back Laurent, who was watching him carefully. "Forgive me," Damen said. "I need, there is--"

"Come here."

Damen hesitated only a moment before his feet carried him forward of their own accord, bringing him before Laurent's throne, where his husband could reach out and grasp his hand. Laurent's grip was firm, and he used it to tug Damen closer, close enough that Damen stood over him, a position few were afforded.

"What troubles you?" Laurent asked.

"Nothing," Damen insisted. "All is well, I simply--"

"Don't," Laurent said, "Lie to me."

Damen swallowed. Laurent's gaze was hard upon him, his grip tightening further still. He tugged down, and Damen did not know what else to do but kneel before him. His husband, his king, the other half of himself. It was no hardship to kneel before Laurent.

"Tired?" Laurent asked.

What else could he say but the truth? "Somewhat," Damen said, earnest. "I would relieve my frustrations at the training grounds. If you might--"

"Why would you go to such a trouble," Laurent said. "When there are much simpler methods at your disposal?"

Another tug, now, and Laurent led him forward once more. He pulled Damen towards him, hand hooking under his chin and drawing him upwards. Damen rose, half crouching, until he realised what Laurent meant for him to do.

"Will you not do as your king commands?" Laurent said, when Damen hesitated. There was something in his voice now, something harder than he usually allowed.

Damen swallowed, and found himself hovering over Laurent's lap. The throne was magnificent, large enough for two to sit abreast if they pressed close, certainly wide enough for Damen to perch atop Laurent, knees resting either side of Laurent’s thighs. His hands made their way to Laurent's shoulders for balance as he held himself up. Laurent raised a brow at his reluctance and grabbed his waist, pulling him down in a sudden motion, until Damen was seated on his thighs. 

It was not a position Damen had found himself in before.

"Laurent," he started.

"Hush." Laurent's hands smoothed over his hips, bunching the cotton of his chiton a little, drawing it up until the tops of his brown thighs were revealed

"You would relieve your frustrations?" He asked, a glint in his eye that Damen was altogether far too familiar with. "Then I call you to a nobler cause than throwing yourself about in the sawdust like a beast."

His hands gently traced over the tops of Damen's thighs, nail meeting bare skin in such a delicate way that Damen could not help but shiver.

"Laurent--"

"Do you not want it?" Laurent said. He sat forward suddenly, pressing his chest against Damen's. His lips ghosted just barely along the closest skin he could reach, teasing down the hollow of Damen’s throat. "Do you not wish to serve your king?"

Damen thought he understood, suddenly, what Laurent was asking of him, in his own convoluted way. Always it was a game with him, one charade upon another, but the purpose of them simple. Damen knew what he was asking.

He had thought of it. 

Of course, he had thought of it, but they had never… Damen had never… 

This would be their first. 

Uncertainty filled him in a rush, but desire, too. Anticipation.  _ Want.  _

"Yes,  _ your majesty _ ," Damen said. "I want it."

Laurent smiled. "Good."

Damen felt his chiton being rucked up further, pooling around his waist in a lewd fashion, one that would reveal to anyone who entered exactly what was currently occurring on the throne. Damen spared a glance behind him, reassuring himself that the room was indeed empty. He felt a moment of self consciousness, embarrassed at the publicness of their display. 

Laurent drew his face back with a careful hand on his cheek. "Keep your eyes on me," he said. "I want to watch you."

Damen felt a shiver roll down his spine. He was unused to the unwavering command of Laurent's tone. He was unused to his husband demanding such a thing of him.

"I want to fuck you," Laurent said.

Damen's breath hitched.

"Laurent--"

"Your majesty," Laurent corrected. His hand came to rest in the dip of Damen's back, curling there possessively.

"Your majesty," Damen breathed. He felt his cheeks flush.

"Good," Laurent said. And then, "Undress."

Laurent made no move to assist him. Indeed, he slouched on his throne, back cushioned in the luxuriously soft pillows, sinking into it with a kind of casual arrogance that Damen found hopelessly attractive. Laurent watched him, eyes passive, daring to lick his lips with hunger.

"Well?"

Damen's hand moved to the pin at his shoulder, unclasping it from its hold and dropping it to the side. The chiton unravelled at his shoulder, pooling at his waist in a rumple of white cotton. His chest was bared to Laurent, broad swathes of brown, muscled skin awaiting his perusal.

Laurent's eyes dropped from Damen's, and feasted upon what was bared for him. His hand rose from the arm of the throne, and a finger trailed down Damen's chest, down the dip of his collarbone, between the valley of his pectorals, further through the muscled terrain of his abdomen, until it rested upon his belly.

Damen felt his breath hitch, felt the muscles of his stomach twitch in sensitive delight. "Lau-- your majesty--"

"Shhh," Laurent hushed him again. His thumb stroked back and forth over Damen's belly, feeling the way the muscles jumped for him. "Get rid of the rest."

Damen felt his arms moving, hand clasping the buckle of his belt, unwinding the spool of his chiton until the white sheet was free. He threw it away, careless, uncaring, and turned his gaze back to Laurent.

Laurent's eyes lowered.

Damen knew he was hard. He felt his cock resting against Laurent's stomach, throbbing a little under his attention, flushing red and jerking in a tell-tale sign of arousal.

"Such a slut," Laurent purred. 

One of his hands travelled up Damen’s chest, smoothing over the swell of his breast, fingers quickly finding a nipple, while the other travelled lower, fingers trailing through sensitive hair, caressing in agonising teases against the most desperate part of him. Damen shuddered as Laurent squeezed his left nipple, pebbling it between attentive fingers, before smoothing the pad of a thumb over the stinging nub.

Laurent's other hand brushed down his cock, fingertips too light to bring real pleasure, only teasing, hinting, at what was to come.

Damen closed his eyes, his own hands resting against Laurent's chest, feeling the rise and fall of it, feeling the gentle beat of his heart.

"Look at me," Laurent said, voice hard. "Open your eyes."

Damen did. 

Laurent was watching him, taking in every reaction, every response, calculating with his brilliant mind every pleasure Damen seemed to take, and how best to use it to his advantage. He was so good at this, so good at seeing the desires Damen did not even know he had. He was so good at exploiting them, using them shamelessly, to reduce Damen to little more than a mess of pleasure and arousal. 

"Tell me what you want," Laurent said.

"Anything," Damen answered. "Everything."

Laurent chuckled. "I am going to need you to be more specific.”

"Fuck me, my king," Damen growled. He rolled his hips, thrusting his cock against Laurent, and grinding his hips down on his lap. He felt the hardness in Laurent's trousers beneath him. He heard the hiss of breath that escaped Laurent's lips. "I want you to fuck me."

Laurent's lips stretched in a smirk. "Then I suppose you had best fetch some oil."

Damen was momentarily at a loss. He could not bring himself to lift off Laurent's lap and go in search of something to ease the way, but neither could he bring himself to face taking Laurent in dry. He was not experienced, and his husband not small.

He looked to Laurent desperately, pleading for some simple solution.

"Behind the throne," Laurent said. "Underneath the seat."

Damen leant forward, his face so close to Laurent's he could feel his breath ghosting along his cheeks, as he reached behind the throne blindly. He could not take his eyes off Laurent's long enough to look.

He felt something brush his fingertips, and grasped it gently. When he laid eyes on it, he saw it was indeed the promised bottle of oil. 

Damen smirked at the innocuous little vial. "And for what purpose did you intend this,  _ majesty _ ?" 

Laurent moved forward suddenly, his arms coiling around Damen's waist and tugging him close. "Why," he said, “To fuck you, of course.”

He kissed Damen, and he was not gentle.

His lips were rough and harsh, parting against Damen's and forcing entry, to let his tongue dip inside. He took control, demanded it with an absolutely surety, like it was his to take. Like Damen’s mouth belonged to him.

His hands fisted Damen's hair, tugging it back, baring his throat upon which he fell with a fervour, marking and biting, his teeth and tongue not tender. Damen gasped, his hips jerking, arms encircling Laurent's shoulders and pulling him closer.

As Laurent's teeth sunk into the flesh of his throat, his hand snaked between them and wrapped fully around Damen's cock. Damen made a strange sound of pleasure, one he had not ever made before. He felt himself go pliant in Laurent' arms, boneless and submissive, eager for whatever he might be given in exchange.

Laurent took the bottle of oil from his lax hand.

"Do you want me to finger you?" Laurent said roughly. "Do you want me to stretch you open for my cock?"

Damen's hips jerked. He nodded fervently. "Yes,  _ your majesty _ ."

Laurent kissed the bite he had made against Damen's neck as he unstoppered the bottle. He poured a small amount over his fingers, rubbing it between the digits to spread the slick and warm it up. His hand trailed down Damen's spine, rising over the swell of his ass and down between the cleft of his cheeks. His fingers found the hole there, felt it twitch for him, wonderfully responsive as his finger rubbed and pressed.

Damen tried to shift down, surprising himself with how much he wanted Laurent's fingers inside him, where nothing had ever been before.

"Beg for it," Laurent said.

Damen halted. As much as he wanted this, as delicious as the fantasy was, he did not know if he was capable of what Laurent asked. A King did not beg. He did not know if he could bring himself to do it.

To submit himself, yes. To cede control to Laurent, to call him by title in place of name, yes. But to beg? He had never considered such a thing.

"Damen," Laurent's voice snapped attention back to him. His gaze was unamused, unyielding. “Suddenly shy, lover?”

Damen clenched his teeth. His hands flexed on Laurent’s shoulders. 

Laurent did not back down. "Beg for it." His hand tightened on Damen’s cock. He stroked once, twice, dug his thumb into the slit, and stopped. “Beg your king.”

Damen was only human. 

"Please," he whispered. "Please."

Laurent chuckled. “You can do far better than that.”

Damen gasped as the tip of Laurent’s finger dug inside, just a little, just a taste. Not enough.

“Please, your majesty,” Damen grit out. “Please, finger me.”

Laurent smiled, victorious. “You beg so beautifully, lover,” he said.

Damen moaned when his finger finally, finally pushed inside.

It was a strange sensation, one of being full in a place he was not accustomed to fullness. It was intense, sharp and almost violating. It felt like being pried open, invaded in the most intimate place, stretched out for Laurent’s pleasure. He couldn’t ignore it, less so when the tip of Laurent's finger started to wiggle.

Damen gasped, his hips jerking upward and then back, as though his own body could not decide where it wanted to be. Impaled on those fingers, or free of their torment. Damen didn’t know.

"Lau-- you-- majesty-- I don--"

Laurent's finger thrust suddenly, to the last knuckle, stretching him open in a rush. Damen had no time to prepare for it, and his whole body jolted. 

The stretch of it was intense, unyielding. No matter how hard his inner muscles constricted, he couldn’t drive Laurent out. There was the sting of it, a little sharper than he would have liked, and the burn of friction. 

The finger probed a little, stroking him from the inside, spreading smooth slick along his inner walls. The twist burned sharper than the thrust, and Damen frowned, trying to search for some mote of pleasure in the sensation.

He didn’t quite understand the fuss, at first. The intrusion was sharp and invasive, and his mind had difficulty finding it arousing. How could it be that men would drive themselves mad for this, debase themselves for it? How could it be that Laurent would give himself so frequently to it?

Until, of course, Laurent's probing finger found the bud of his prostate

Damen's entire body jolted at the shock of the sensation. It felt like lightning striking down his spine, the very core of him swelling with an incredible pleasure, the like of which Damen had never thought such a part of himself capable.

He gasped, he shuddered, and Laurent smiled.

"Perfect," Laurent says. "Beautiful."

The finger started to thrust inside him, moving gently back and forth, searching always for that sensitive place that made Damen see stars. Damen felt himself teetering between the pleasure of the feeling and becoming overwhelmed by it, and were it not for the familiar comfort of Laurent's hand caressing his cock he thinks he might have been.

"Can you take more?" Laurent asked. Damen felt a kiss pressed to his collarbone, another a little lower, against the swell of his chest.

"Yes," Damen assured him. He ground down, for good measure. He could take this, he knew he could. It should be an easy thing.

Laurent chuckled. "Bear down a little," he commanded. As Damen obeyed, a second finger slipped inside.

It seemed impossible that a second finger should feel this much bigger, but Damen felt the sudden stretch acutely and grit his teeth.

"Relax," Laurent insisted. He stroked Damen's cock once, grip hard. "Open yourself for me."

Damen concentrated as best he could, trying to relieve the tension that had seized him, preventing Laurent from easy access. He wanted this, he reminded himself, playing the mantra in his head. He wanted Laurent inside him. He wanted his  _ king _ inside him.

The burn began to fade, the longer Laurent was seated within him. The ache of the stretch became familiar, pleasant even. No longer was the discomfort the center of his focus. It was the pressure, now, the weight of something pressing inside him, that stole Damen’s breath. It was the feeling of his body opening, of it being opened, of Laurent demanding entrance inside him, and taking everything he was offered. The rush of submission to it, the knowledge of what Laurent would do to him, was intoxicating.

Whatever small pains the stretch had caused were worth it for that. The way Laurent's breath rose and fell in harsh pants was worth anything.

"Good," Laurent praised him, as he felt Damen's body begin to unwind. "Perfect."

Damen was quickly lost to it; to the gentle thrust of Laurent fingers, always finding the pleasurable spot inside him, making him see stars, timed with the gentle stroking of his cock, to keep him interested, to keep him invested.

Laurent played his body like an instrument. He knew every gesture to coax Damen’s pleasure, knew every sensitive place, learnt through careful exploration and all the years of lovemaking they had shared. He whispered filth in Damen's ear, the kind that raised hair on the back of his neck, promising to open him wide for Laurent's cock, to fuck him so deep he would feel it for days, to claim from him what no one had ever dared to claim before.

Damen could only hold on dearly, and trust that Laurent would keep him safe.

Two fingers became three, and once more the sting of the burn flooded Damen senses. Yet somehow, there was a pleasure in that too. In so short a time, what amount of pain and discomfort there was to be found in the sensation of being filled was suddenly thrilling, enchanting, addicting. Damen gasped, and slammed himself down, demanding more of the fingers inside him.

"You are nearly ready, I think," Laurent laughed at his eagerness. He guided Damen down for another kiss. "Fuck yourself on my fingers."

Damen hardly hesitated. He began to bounce up and down, his thighs taking the strain, harder with every pass as he took Laurent's fingers inside him, crooked to tease his prostate, an incentive to drive him harder.

"Yes," Laurent uttered. "Faster."

Damen obeyed, lifting and dropping his body until the stretch of Laurent's fingers was an endless blur of pleasure, until he was desperate for something bigger.

"I want your cock," Damen growled. "Your majesty,  _ please _ , I need your cock.”

Laurent cocked his head, something devious sparkling in his eyes. “No,” he said.

Damen growled desperately, his hips stuttering in his frustration. “Laurent,  _ please.” _

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me. Please, put your cock inside me. I  _ need  _ it.”

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

The fingers were suddenly removed, and Damen was left feeling bereft. The emptiness was unpleasant, more so than he thought it would be. He frowned, hands clenching tight on the arms of the throne. Laurent soothed him with a possessive stroke down his chest.

"Lift up," he demanded. Damen did.

Laurent made quick work of the laces of his trousers, fingers only barely tremoring with his eagerness. He pulled himself free, and the sight of him was lewd; entirely clothed, but for his cock, rising red and hard in arousal.

Damen imagined the sight they made. Laurent, a king dressed in all his regalia, reclined comfortably on his throne, while Damen, naked and flushed, perched wantonly on his lap, poised above him in anticipation of what was to come.

Laurent smirked up at him, as he began to slick his cock with oil, his gaze heated. He bit his lip, a sight that made Damen’s blood heat, and spent wasted long moments in pleasuring himself, while Damen watched and itched to touch.

“I like you like this,” Laurent said. “Kneeling for me. Desperate for it.”

He finally began to guide his cock to Damen's entrance. The head of it felt suddenly huge, as it rested against the opening to Damen's body like a promise. Damen felt his thighs begin to shake.

"Your-- Lau--"

"You can take it," Laurent said, sternly. "Sink down for me, my love."

Damen closed his eyes, and with a shaking breath, let himself slowly, slowly sink down. The head of Laurent's cock caught against his rim, before popping inside him, filling him suddenly and swiftly and stealing Damen's breath.

It was only the tip, but already he Damen felt so full. He could scarcely imagine what it would feel like to take Laurent all the way inside.

"Come on," Laurent urges him. "You can take more."

Another inch, and another, further and further down until Damen could hardly stand it. It felt like being split open, being stretched wide, broken for Laurent's cock, hollowed out for his husband to claim a place inside him. It was terrifying and intimate, more overwhelming than Damen could have ever believed. He felt desperate. He felt changed. 

"Laurent," he gasped. "My king,  _ Laurent _ ."

Laurent held him close, arms wrapping around him, cradling him in the way that Damen usually cradled him. He soothed Damen’s back, pressed kisses to his shoulder and throat, whispered sweet nothings, praise and adoration into Damen's skin. 

Damen finally reached the bottom, and seated himself on Laurent’s thighs. It was too much, he was too full, he wanted the intrusion gone. 

He ached to be stretched  _ deeper. _

The maelstrom of confliction sensation warred within Damen furiously, rendering him mute. His mouth opened and closed around words he could not voice, his face crumpled as pleasure turned to pain and back again just as quickly. 

He lingered in stillness for a long time, so long that the stretch of Laurent inside him slowly became familiar. Once more the burn faded, once more the ache of the stretch became something  _ more. _

His hips shifted a little, trying out the feeling of it. Laurent buried his face in Damen's chest. His breaths were harsh, his entire body jerking with sudden spasms, as though he was more desperate to fuck up into Damen than anything in the world, and only an act of massive restraint held him back.

"I am ready," Damen assured him, and reached down to tuck golden hair behind Laurent’s ear.

"Ride me," Laurent rasped, slumping back to look at Damen’s face. "Fuck yourself on my cock."

Damen shivered at the words, and felt arousal spike hot in his gut. 

He gathered his strength, and grit his teeth as he began to rise, feeling the heavy drag of Laurent inside him. The extrusion felt odd, but Damen bore it, until he felt the head of Laurent's cock resting just within him. When he sunk down again, he felt it slide inside in a perfect, smooth thrust, and when he rolled his hips, and felt Laurent's cock prod against his pleasure spot, Damen cried out, throwing back his head, and reached for Laurent's forearms, encircled around him, and held onto them desperately.

Damen started a pace, moving slowly and methodically, up and down, riding his husband, his king, until there was nothing but pleasure in the fullness, until the ache made his toes curl, until his knees shook with the effort of restraint. He could scarcely stand the gentle pace any longer. He needed  _ more. _

Laurent stroked his hips, holding them fast as Damen moved above him. He forced Damen to maintain his gentle pace, guiding his hips when Damen faltered. He watched, wide eyed and mesmerized, as Damen fucked himself on his cock. Damen had never seen him look so wild. "Faster," Laurent demanded. "Harder."

At the command, Damen slammed his body down.

The new pace was breathtaking, exhausting, and perfect. Up and down Damen bounced, again and again and again, splitting himself open on Laurent's cock and taking him deep inside. 

“Perfect,” Laurent groaned. He pushed at Damen’s chest a little, guiding Damen to bend backwards. The position forced Laurent’s cock against his pleasure spot with every new thrust, the accuracy infallible and mind numbing. Damen felt his eyes roll, felt pleasure suffuse through him in steady waves that came from within his very core. He propped his hands on Laurent’s knees for balance as he fucked down harder, seeking more.

“Touch yourself,” Laurent growled, suddenly. “Make yourself come.”

Damen moved to do as he was bid, resting his weight on one hand as the other moved to grasp himself. The pleasure multiplied tenfold as he gave stimulation to his cock, seeming to come from all directions inside him. Damen made loud and helpless sounds, unable to stifle himself. Laurent hardly seemed to mind.

Damen felt pleasure building, knotting in his stomach and warming his very core. It was wholly consuming, utterly perfect, and more than Damen ever dared to dream.

"Fuck, Damen," he heard Laurent growl. "Damen."

They were so lost in each other, so consumed with the spectacle of Damen riding Laurent like a stallion, that the world without reduced to little but white noise.

They did not hear the sound of the doors opening.

A throat cleared behind them, a gentle and awkward cough, but Damen and Laurent did not heed it. Damen slammed himself down particularly hard, and a groan tore free from his throat, louder than he had intended, and it echoed through the chamber damningly. Laurent's breathless grunt followed.

There was another cough, louder this time, more deliberate.

Through the fog of his pleasure, Damen heard it.

Laurent did not.

As Damen stilled, sudden embarrassment seizing him, Laurent curled against him possessively, one hand clawing at his hip, the other smoothing down his chest and wrapping around the hand Damen had on his cock. The pleasure of it made Damen's back arch, before he looked over his shoulder.

"Don't stop," Laurent was telling him. "Fuck, Damen, don't stop."

"Your majesty if I might..."

Laurent jerked like he had been shocked, and looked over Damen's shoulder. Damen might have thought the blush on his cheeks attractive, were he not currently in the position of scrutiny as his best friend and Laurent's most loyal guard stood awkwardly behind them.

Nikandros looked absolutely stunned, blinking furiously like he was somehow hallucinating the sight of his kings fucking on their throne. Jord seemed to be trying very hard to avoid and any all eye contact, though his eyes keep darting down to where Laurent and Damen were joined, and just as quickly away.

Jord cleared his throat again, shifting uncomfortably, and said, "Your majesty, Exalted, a pressing matter has come to our attention."

Damen looked back to Laurent. Laurent looked up at Damen.

Laurent's eyebrow raised. Damen's lips stretched wide.

"I'm sure it can wait," Laurent said. His voice carefully,  _ carefully _ did not hitch as Damen rolled his hips. "We are.... currently...  _ indisposed. _ "

Nik made a choked sound. "Dame--- Exalt---  _ Damen. _ "

When Damen turned to face him, he was careful to tighten his body around Laurent's cock, drawing from Laurent a choked breath that no one could deny was made in pleasure.

"Leave us," he said to a very stunned Nik. "We will be with you shortly."

Jord nodded brusquely, before turning on his heels and leaving the room as fast as his legs would carry him. "Yes, of course, we should have--- it is not--- very good, Your majesty, Exalted, I will-- Yes. good."

Nikandros face looked so red that at any moment it might explode atop his shoulders. "Damen," he growled. "For fuck’s sake. The  _ throne? _ "

Damen snorted, and though he knew that later he would feel shame for the public spectacle they had made, lust for the moment won out, and he deliberately rolled his hips, enough that Laurent's breath hitched tellingly.

"Nik," he said, voice warning. "Leave us."

Nik threw his hands into the air like a man at his wit’s end, and stormed out after Jord, muttering unintelligible obscenities under his breath.

Damen turned back to Laurent.

Laurent, though his cheeks still held that rosy blush of embarrassment, was smiling wickedly at him, the set of his lips entirely smug.

"He is never going to forgive us," Laurent chuckled.

"Never," Damen agreed. He rose up, lifting himself once more to the tip of Laurent's still hard cock, and slowly, slowly sunk down.

"I guess we'll have to make it worthwhile."

  
  


FIN

**Author's Note:**

> I hope i didnt leave anyone with blueballs
> 
>  
> 
> Tumblr @exyking (if u wanna join the discord for more of this kind of mess, hit me up!)


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